


More Than One Sheathe

by thatgirlwhodraws



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Anal Play, Bloodplay, Kink, M/M, Swordplay, in a literal sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 15:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgirlwhodraws/pseuds/thatgirlwhodraws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Altair comes back from a mission, feeling a little frisky. When Malik isn't there to satisfy his needs, he decides to use other means of satisfying his lust. It isn't until Malik walks in on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than One Sheathe

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote some very, very filthy Assassin's Creed fanfiction back in the day. I may not write more, but you can all have what I wrote.

Altair winced faintly as he dropped down into the bureau. He'd gotten a bit battered up during his last mission, and frankly, a bit turned on. The battle had been an exhilarating one. "Malik?" He called out, frowning a little when he saw that the Dai was not there. Well, there went his stress relief. Shifting a bit, he padded into the back room – Malik's private room, as it were – and seated himself, beginning to undress. He shivered slightly as his fingers brushed over a cut on his arm, sending a throb of pain and excitement up his spine.

Perhaps he'd indulge himself in a bit of self-pleasure while he waited. He had never been a patient man.

Robes were removed as he sat on the bed, running his fingers down his own chest, closing his eyes for a moment. He imagined the hand was not his own as he roughly pinched a nipple. Huffing air out, he flinched lightly, fingering a shallow cut on his chest. There was a point where pain and pleasure blurred together – and thinking about Malik was enough to get him going. He could almost hear the Dai's voice in his ear.

" _You always did like it rough."_

He shuddered slightly, one hand sliding against the front of his pants. He groped himself roughly, still imagining it was Malik who touched him. Kicking off his boots, he pushed his pants down with one hand, stroking himself directly now with the other. The smell of blood, sweat, and sex made him want to moan. His fight had put him in a rare submissive mood. He'd hoped Malik would indulge him.

" _A little slower, Altair. Don't be so impatient."_

He bit his lip lightly, drawing in a shaky breath. He forced himself to move his hand a little more slowly, rubbing the ball of his thumb over the head of his length. He slid the fingers of his free hand into his mouth, running his tongue over them lightly to wet them. He visualized Malik, smirking in approval as he touched himself.

" _That's it. Get them wet. You know what comes after this, mm? Maybe you should get yourself ready."_

Even Altair had the desire to be penetrated, at times. It wasn't often he indulged, and usually it was in the privacy of a dark room. Sliding his slicked fingers out of his mouth, he shifted his hips so that they hung slightly over the edge of the bed. His hand slid down between his legs, a slicked finger brushing his entrance. He let out a sharp hiss of pleasure as he slid his forefinger in slowly.

" _So this is your true face. No better than a common whore."_

A tiny moan escaped him at the imagined insult. He slid the finger deeper, curling it slightly, searching for that sensitive spot inside. A louder noise escaped him when he found the spot, a drop of precum sliding down the underside of his cock, slicking the movement of his hand.

" _A finger isn't enough, is it?"_

It wasn't enough. Sliding in a second finger, he hissed at the pleasant sting it provided. He rocked them in and out slowly, trying to match the movement of his other hand. The master assassin swore he could almost see Malik standing beside him, stroking himself while he watched Altair writhe on the bed.

" _Spread your legs. I can't see."_

Shuddering at the imagined command, he shifted his legs, his pants sliding down to pool around his ankles. His legs spread slightly, the penetration reaching deeper with the new position. "Ngh…." He panted quietly, his voice sounding loud in the silence. He grit his teeth, squirming impatiently. He wanted more. He'd always been one for rough sex, and was usually annoyed with Malik's habit of slowly preparing him, just to be a tease.

" _I'm not going to fuck you, Altair. If you want something inside you so badly, you'll have to figure it out on your own."_

That was true, at least. Glancing around, his eyes settled on where he'd discarded his sword on the floor. He felt heat rise to his cheeks. Well….he could always try that. Slowly pulling his fingers out of himself, he took his sword, stabbing it into the dirt floor. He ran his fingers over the curved bulb at the base of the hilt, and shuddered, imagining what it would feel like inside him.

" _You're going to fuck your sword? You really are a whore."_

He shifted a bit, straddling where he'd stabbed the sword. Shifting a bit, he slowly began to slide down onto the hilt of the sword, one hand resting on the hilt to steady it, the other stroking his length. Altair let out a quiet grunt as it began to slide in, the rough texture of the leather feeling oddly satisfying. It was stimulating, to say the least.

A quiet groan left him when he slid down further, his insides tensing, then relaxing around the intrusion. His legs trembled slightly with the strain to stay in his crouching position, beads of sweat forming on his skin, rolling down the insides of his thighs in a slow trickle. It wasn't until the tip of the handle brushed his prostate that he stopped, letting out a soft hiss. Absorbed in his own fantasies, he didn't hear the drop of boots hitting the floor outside.

"Altair?" Called a familiar voice, making him stiffen and tense. His cheeks flushed red faintly.

"Malik…." He managed to growl, frozen in place. Covered in sweat and drying blood, fucking the hilt of his sword, he was quite a sight to see. He'd not thought the Dai would catch him in such an embarrassing position.

"...Well…" Malik mused, a satisfied smirk coming to his lips. He moved to stand before the kneeling man, curling his fingers in his hair briefly. Bending down, he captured his scarred lips in a rough kiss, biting at his tongue, establishing dominance over him. His actions received no more than a quiet moan – Altair never was a very loud lover. Pulling back slightly, Malik flicked his tongue over the master assassin's lips. "Continue." He ordered lowly.

Muttering in embarrassment, he tried to turn his head away, though it was stopped by the grip in his hair.

"I said continue, Altair." The command was firm – Malik's fingers tightening in his hair.

The authority in Malik's voice made him want to moan. He rolled his hips just slightly, letting out a quiet hiss of pleasure when the curved end of the hilt pressed against the sensitive spot inside of him. Glancing up at the Dai, he swallowed. "Malik…"

"Move your hips a little more, Altair." He murmured, sliding his hand down to stroke over his aching length, encouraging him.

Raising his hips, he shuddered at feeling the hilt sliding out of him. He bit his lip, shutting his eyes in concentration before lowering his hips down again, a quiet moan leaving him. Something cool pressed against his chest, and his eyes snapped open, making him growl a bit.

"Keep your eyes open." Malik had pulled a knife from his belt, and was running the flat of the blade across his flesh, teasing with the sharp edge along his chest. A satisfied smirk appeared as he grazed a nipple, making Altair hiss in pleasure. "Move a little slower now. Fuck yourself on it." He murmured, pressing the very tip of the blade against his nipple.

Altair had to keep his chest still to avoid being cut. His breathing ragged, he slowly rocked himself on the hilt of his sword, trying to restrain the tiny moans of pleasure that threatened to escape. Meanwhile, he kept his eyes on Malik – on the blade that teased across his skin. He watched as the blade stroked and teased his nipples, making them erect.

He hissed again when the sharp edge of the blade crossed over one of his open wounds, drawing blood. Beads of crimson dripped down his stomach, making him shudder slightly. Malik watched the blood fall, using the tip of the blade to trace the red lines left behind. He slowly followed the pathways; then trailed the tip of the blade back up again, following the shape of the muscles along Altair's abdomen. He almost grinned in satisfaction when the muscles twitched and tensed, a shuddering breath leaving the scarred man's lips.

Malik pressed a little harder as he reached Altair's ribs, leaving thin red lines in the wake of the knife. This caused Altair to stiffen and still his hips, panting hard. Annoyed, Malik flicked the knife against his belly, leaving a cut there. "Don't stop moving, novice." He growled, pressing the knife against his flesh again.

Resisting the urge to curse loudly, Altair began to move his hips again. The curve of the hilt continuously nudging against his prostate, combined with the feel of the knife cutting into his flesh, was…hard to resist. He knew he'd never live it down if he came before Malik was done with him.

The Dai smirked in satisfaction at that. He traced patterns across the sides of Altair's ribs on both sides, alternating between the tip and edge of the blade. Watching as more red droplets appeared on Altair's flesh, he smirked. "You look like you want something." He commented lightly, pulling Altair's hand away from his erection. "Don't touch yourself. Just move on the hilt. Can't have you coming too fast, now…" he purred, resting the edge of the blade against the man's aching length.

Altair drew in a sharp breath, hissing at the feel of the cool metal against his flesh. His chest heaved, a shaky sigh leaving him when the knife was pulled away. Malik was moving behind him, running the knife along his back, tracing old wounds and making new ones. A fresh cut near the base of his spine stung sharply when the one-armed ran the knife over it, making him groan quietly. He could feel moisture drip down his back and down his thigh – was it sweat, or blood? He couldn't tell anymore. It wasn't until he felt the cold caress of the knife just under his buttocks.

"You're slowing down. Something wrong?" Malik questioned in a low purr, tracing the underside of the muscled form, teasing at first, then harder to draw blood. Altair let out a choked noise, pressing down harder than he'd meant to; the hilt pressed against his prostate, sending sparks of pleasure flashing up his spine. "It seems so." The Dai continued, using the flat of the blade to pick up the droplets of blood as they fell. He then got a wicked idea.

Standing up strait, he moved the bloodied blade against Altair's lips. "Lick it clean." He ordered lowly. He could see Altair frown in the reflection of the blade, and he smirked, leaning down to whisper hotly in his ear. "I won't ask a second time."

Altair swallowed lightly at that, running his tongue over the blade, carefully so as not to cut his tongue. A quiet groan left him as he tasted the coppery fluid. Aroused by the scent and taste of his own blood, he took the tip of the blade between his lips, suckling at it lightly.

"Does the taste of your own blood really have such an effect on you? You really do think of nothing but battle." Malik chuckled quietly, swallowing a little as he watched the pink of Altair's tongue caressing the blade. It wasn't often he had Altair at his mercy like this. He would be glad to take advantage of it, regardless of the consequences he might face later. His pants felt hot and tight, his erection begging to be freed. He was just about read to feel that tongue on him.

Pressing the blade a little more against Altair's lips, he was pleased to see him take it deeper, lapping up the last traces of blood from the blade before it was pulled back and replaced in his belt. Pulling off his robes in a slow fashion, he slid them off before pulling his length from his pants, pressing the tip against his lips. "You can move a little faster while you pleasure me." Malik crooned quietly.

Obedient for once, Altair ran his tongue along the underside of the Dai's cock before taking it into his mouth. He grunted quietly when Malik's fingers fisted in his short hair, and placed one hand on the man's hips as he began to move on the sword again. He tried to match the movement of his mouth to his hips, bobbing his head slowly. Gold eyes were trained on the Dai's face, how he flushed and moaned when he deep-throated him.

"Ah…now if you only…mhn…put your mouth to good use like this more often…you'd be perfect." Malik panted quietly, hissing a bit when Altair's teeth scraped against his skin. "Oh shut up…nh…and keep going." He grumbled, thrusting his hips forward, satisfied when the man gagged a bit.

The only sounds that could be heard for a while were the soft grunts and quiet moans, accompanied by the wet noises of Altair's mouth. Seeming to think he hadn't given Malik enough pleasure, he pulled back briefly, licking a finger to wet it before moving back to his task. His hand snuck into Malik's pants, the tip of a finger pressing against his entrance.

The Dai gasped quietly and gripped his hair tighter, hissing. "A-Altair…" he hissed quietly in warning, though he made no move to stop him. Pressing a finger inside his ass, Altair felt he had at least a portion of control back. The control was almost lost when Malik's clothed knee ground against his erection, stimulating him as he rode the hilt. He redoubled his efforts, curling his finger inside of Malik.

A sharp cry of pleasure rewarded him. He bobbed his head a little faster over Malik's length, relaxing his throat when the Dai thrust against him. A warm, tingling feeling started in the base of his spine and spread towards the heat in his groin – god he was close. He rocked his hips down one more time; just as Malik rubbed his knee over the sensitive head of his cock. Moaning lowly around his mouthful, he spilled his seed over the fabric of the Dai's pants.

Seeing the splash of white was enough to make Malik shudder in pleasure. He grabbed Altair's head and rocked his hips against him, thrusting into his mouth, forcing him to deep throat him each time. Altair choked at first, then relaxed, allowing Malik to do as he pleased. He pressed his finger against the man's prostate firmly, enjoying the choked sound that followed.

It only took a few more thrusts against that hot mouth and the press of his finger to send Malik over the edge, choking quietly in pleasure as he came. He let out a satisfied sigh at that, unable to hide the flush on his cheeks when Altair swallowed his seed. "Well…" he breathed, pulling back slightly, watching Altair shakily stand up off of his sword, rubbing at the cut Malik had left on his thigh. "I'll make sure to give you a little more time alone from now on."

Narrowing his eyes slightly at the man, he pulled his sword from the ground, sheathing it. "I need no such thing." He said coolly. "Momentary insanity." He mused, watching the Dai pull his pants back on.

"Very well, brother. I'll get the bandages." Malik snorted softly, moving from the room. "Let me know if you need anything else." He could hear Altair muttering faintly as he left, and glanced over his shoulder to find him staring down at the hilt of his sword with a puzzled expression.


End file.
